


Uncovered

by nakedchrisevans



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakedchrisevans/pseuds/nakedchrisevans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve’s jealousy almost got them compromised, Natasha’s just fucking angry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncovered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elcapitan_rogers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elcapitan_rogers/gifts).



> Prompt by thegumgum who wanted jealous/angry sex and I managed to infuse both so you’re welcome.

Most of the time Steve doesn’t mind it, because he’s been in multiple operations with Natasha and she has been shamelessly flirting or rubbing up and down some bastard that he’s quite grown used to it although he doesn’t approve of any of it, but that’s his opinion that he keeps to himself. Usually her trick was to flirt, get the target drunk, pretend to act ditzy and stupid, and then dry hump the poor guy. It usually leads to Natasha getting access to the guy’s hotel room and then she does some spy shit that usually ends in a mission well completed.  
  
This was of course before they decided to fuck each other senseless, fall in love (in that order) and still become partners in crime (Nick Fury had no choice, they were obviously the best duo.) Though the dynamic of their relationship has changed, the pattern of missions and operations didn’t.  
  
They didn’t have a heart to heart talk about the fragility of their relationship, or the fact that even though they are technically together, they were technically not. Not when she’s rubbing up and down some dude’s crotch. Steve understood that it was a part of her broad and ambiguous job description and he tried not to cringe whenever dirty, rough hands palm her ass, or when the bastards are practically fucking her through her skimpy dresses. He really did try to contain his anger and jealousy and he considers himself quite successful in that endeavor.  
  
It wasn’t until one time they went undercover but Steve had to literally become Natasha’s shadow. He wasn’t to be seen when Natasha was hacking into top secret files, or when she had to be a stripper for one night. It wasn’t pretty, she looked cheap and easy, and nothing about Natasha was cheap and easy.  
  
He was inside a van parked behind a strip club whilst Natasha was inside. The VIP suite was bugged with cameras and recorders which directly fed into the computers in the van. The guy wasn’t even old or bald or fat like the rest of them. This guy, who laundered money and was active in human trafficking, was well built, chiseled in all the right places. Steve could tell he was handsome and sharp and had an air of danger and excitement. This was going to be harder to bite down his jealousy than others before.  
  
Natasha wore a frilly pink skirt that only covered half her ass, and garter belts with fish net stockings. He has never seen her so exposed to other people before, and it drove him crazy. It was silly really, because she would wear the most outrageous outfits and even then he doesn’t really mind. But this, this only covered a quarter of her breasts, and her lady parts.  
  
Natasha had started dancing provocatively around the pole stuck in the middle of the dimly lit room. It was just the two of them, and the bastard was slightly tipsy but still sober enough to enjoy the show and still remember 90% of it. He was clever though, probably not drinking enough to have control over himself, so he doesn’t spill out things to random strangers. She was rubbing her crotch in the most vulgar way possible on the pole, spinning around it with utmost ease. Steve hated the clothes she was given, but he was just as entranced as the bastard sitting in front of her. She was, of course, a trained gymnast, spinning around poles and holding up her weight was kid’s play to her.  
  
It wasn’t until the man invited her on his lap that he started clenching his fists. She obliged happily and gave him a lap dance, sweat was glistening on her skin and he could hear her soft pants. He was sporting a huge boner, and had started feeling up her ass, grabbing a handful of it and slapping it gently but swiftly. His hands moved up to her heaving breasts, and began squeezing them roughly, pulling on her nipples through her laced bra.  
  
By that time, Steve left the van, swiftly clocking every guard on his way towards the VIP suite. He almost ripped the door open, yanked Natasha off the guy’s lap and put all his power and strength into knocking him out cold with one blow.  
  
It happened all too fast and then Steve grabbed her hand and rushed outside, flinging themselves into the van with bullets flying past them. They drove away quick enough to lose the herd of gnarly bodyguards in a mad car chase, finally stopping at a motel 90 km from the scene of the crime. Renting a room, the door was slammed shut before all hell broke loose.  
  
“What the fuck was that?!” Natasha yelled. It was probably the rush of testosterone and adrenaline, because Steve never felt so jealous and livid and turned on.  
  
“You were practically fucking him!” Steve yelled just as loud.  
  
“We were fucking compromised! We could’ve been killed, Rogers!” She punched his chest repetitively and Steve caught her hands because her punches bloody hurt.  
  
“We’ve done this a million times, why the fuck are you blowing your top off?” She spat at him when her hands were trapped in his. He could feel the heat of her sharp ragged breaths, they were almost as violent as the rest of her writhing body.  
  
“The difference is you were enjoying it!” The veins in his neck and on his forehead were visible, and Natasha probably have never seen him so fucking angry and why is it turning her on?  
  
“What the fuck has gotten in to you? You lost your head and this is somehow my fault?!” She snapped.  
  
“I lost my head?! You were throwing back yours and you were moaning, for fuck’s sake. I couldn’t care less if it was 4 months ago, but this is fucked up!” He bellowed.  
  
“No, what was fucked up is you being jealous over nothing and fucking up our mission!”  
  
“Nothing?! How the fuck is that nothing?! Yeah, I was jealous, why wouldn’t I be? I’ve seen you dry hump enough serial killers and old fat guys but dammit Natasha, you’re my woman now and I’d be insane to not be jealous!”  
  
“It’s called acting, you idi—hmmmphhh” Her sentence was cut short when he kissed her open-mouthed and hard, slamming her head on the door, she groaned painfully in their sizzling battle of tongues and teeth. Her hands were pinned above her and her body was trapped between the door and him, but that didn’t stop her from writhing and bucking her hips violently into him. She responded with a brutal fervor and bit down his bottom lip hard. He moaned and trapped her tighter, leaning all of his weight onto her body whilst he continued his assault on her lips despite the blood on his own. It tasted raw, coppery and they’ve never done anything like this before but there’s a first time for everything, he reckoned.  
  
He let go of her hands and picked her up with ease to which she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. She intensified their kisses, fingers running rapidly in between his locks, tugging them ferociously by their roots, drawing low grunts and long groans that were muffled by their mouths. She clung on to him steadfastly as his calloused hands roamed her back then retracting to give a clean sharp slap to her semi-exposed ass. She broke the kiss and moaned, her voice turning hoarse and cracked.  
  
He practically threw her on the bed, which creaked angrily beneath them. Steve took a moment to ravish the sight of her, flushed and hot in her stripper get up. Come to think of it, now he doesn’t mind this at all. Despite that, she still looked pretty fucking pissed at him, which in itself was a turn on.  
  
He savagely tore the lacey fabric of her bra, snapping so hard on her chest she was sure it would turn into a mean bruise later. Steve didn’t take the liberty of slowly spoiling her breasts but he took one in hard and fast, biting on the nipple and withdrawing it into his mouth whilst his hand were grabbing, squeezing and tugging the other breast. Natasha was reduced to a moaning and whimpering mess, her legs were still securely locking his waist as her hands fumbled to take his clothes off.  
  
He paused only for a moment to strip his shirt off before continuing to abuse Natasha’s collarbone, sucking on the heated flesh and after satisfied with one area, he moved on to the next untouched skin. Natasha moaned and fuck, Steve loved it when she moaned, her voice is low and gravelly but this, this was different. She was uninhibited and loose and she was fraying by the thread of her very soul.  
  
“Fuck you Rogers.” She managed to breathe out in rasps and in between moans. He smirked on her skin and bit down hard, earning him a generous clawing of her sharp nails. She clawed at his back, venting her overflowing anger and lust, making sure he had as much scars and marks as a result of this impromptu sex as she would. Steve growled, getting off of her to briskly unbuckle his belt and remove his jeans.  
  
He ripped her frilly skirt and didn’t even bother to take off her thongs. He tugged them aside and with a powerful thrust, he rammed into her. She let out a jarring scream, her voice broken and throaty. He bit down his lip, grunting with each thrust into her as the bed shook and creaked and soon, her head had bumped onto the headboard. He leaned in and kissed her, sloppy and disoriented. She grabbed his shoulders and her nimble fingers roamed on his back and as each thrust edged her closer to her climax, her nails dug deeper and became more prominent to his senses.  
  
“Tell me you’re mine.” He gritted.  
  
“Fuck.” She swore loudly as she closed her eyes, eyebrows furrowing.  
  
“Tell me, Natasha, tell me that you’re mine.” Sweat glistened on his neck, pooling and slowly running down the expanse of his chest.  
  
“I’m yours. Fuck!” She grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled him harshly to her lips, tongues twisting and teeth clashing and biting.  
  
“Steve you fucker.” Stranded hair stuck on to her forehead and cheeks and her emerald eyes were half lidded with lust and desire. She was breathless but she was so wound up, the heated pool in the lower pit of her stomach was coiling and she was going to be thrown into oblivion any minute. If only Steve could fuck her just a little harder.  
  
“Harder!”  
  
“Did you enjoy it?” He slammed her again. Natasha shook her head feverishly.  
  
“Don’t fucking lie to me! Did you enjoy it?!” He growled. She was so damn turned on by his roughness and he’s deliberately missing her sweet spot so she nodded fiercely and he let loose every frustration, lust, hunger and anger he had held back for so long. He made sharp and intense thrusts and she’s arching her back so high, hands are pulling on his hair, then scratching his shoulders then everywhere on the sheets, gripping on for dear life. Her body shook forcefully, muscles clenching and unclenching as she was thrown into a sea of euphoric madness, letting out an unrestrained cry of pleasure. He was to follow suit, and as her insides gripped on him, he let out his last final thrust before unraveling and then spiraling down into his own abyss.  
  
Slick with sweat and cum, he withdrew from her, wincing at the sensitivity of his cock. He crashed beside her, arms and legs overlapping. They lied down in silence except for the decreasing sound of their breaths.  
  
“Feeling better?” Natasha said, eyes still glued to the lazy rotation of the ceiling fan.  
  
“Much.”


End file.
